Through the Stars
by RisingWinter
Summary: Short oneshots following Ford through some of his adventures beyond the portal, posted in celebration of the release of the blacklight edition of Journal 3. Contains spoilers past "Not What He Seems," 2x11.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Gravity Falls

Ford woke to darkness.

His jaw felt sore and he could barely open one eye. Given that and the pain he felt around the same eye, Ford assumed it had swollen shut.

Legs splayed and arms twisted at uncomfortable angles, Ford felt asphalt under his chin. A streetlamp showed in the distance, illuminating just enough of its surrounding area to reveal an empty street. The alley Ford found himself in stretched on toward the other direction, connecting to another street that appeared just as deserted as the other to where not a single soul met his view.

Groaning to himself, Ford hauled himself to his knees despite the weakness in his arms. How long had it been since he'd eaten? For that matter, how long had he been asleep?

Memory returning to him, his hands flew to his pockets. It wasn't like he had anything valuable for them to take, but there were some things still precious to him.

With a relieved sigh, he found his picture still resting comfortably in his coat pocket. Pulling it out, Ford squinted to make out the details of it in the dim light of the alley. A young Stanley and he grinned at him from inside the pathetic image, faces frozen in childish delight and pride, given their makeshift boat in the background.

Stuffing it back in his pocket, Ford stood. His knees hurt with the movement, and he looked down to see rips in his pants right where his knees were. Blood and torn flesh showed through the hole, accompanied by a tingling and numb feeling from that vicinity.

Grimacing at the discomfort, Ford hobbled out of the dark alley.

He didn't know this world. If it was another alternate version of Earth, it was far too different for him to know for sure. What inhabitants he saw looked entirely human, save for the occasional pair of glowing eyes, but the environment looked too… steamy to be normal Earth.

Smoke billowed from numerous smokestacks on the horizon, and Ford could barely see the silhouettes of towering buildings lined with large, glass windows.

It looked like something out of a science fiction novel.

Drawing a steadying breath, he peeked outside the alley to check for more unfriendly faces. He couldn't remember what exactly happened before the blackout, but someone yelling for his money rang a bell.

Pain thudded in his head, a constant companion after he woke up. His attacker probably knocked him out with a blow to the head.

The air was warm, with a slight breeze blowing trash along the ground. The weather was pleasant enough, but Ford couldn't help drawing his coat tighter across his chest. As if that could protect him against the dangers of this...

Dimension.

The portal.

Ford remembered the camp of refugees and Bill's terrible voice echoing through space.

He remembered falling through the air and finding himself here.

But… where was "here?"

The night made recognizing his surroundings difficult. The buildings were shadowed and unfamiliar, their dark windows hiding any sign of life. He may as well have found himself in a ghost town save for those occasional passers-by.

He looked up, but couldn't see any moon or stars. Instead, he could just barely make out the shapes and silhouettes of bulkheads and metal plates above him, which completely blocked out the natural sky.

Ford took to wandering the streets, keeping his head bowed. He certainly didn't want to attract any more attention than he'd already done.

He found even fewer faces than before. Given that he couldn't see the sky, it would explain why the lighting hadn't changed at all, despite his sneaking suspicions that he was out for more than a few hours. He could only assume that the fading traffic meant that it was "bedtime" for these people.

Assuming they slept during their nighttime.

Assuming there _was_ a "nighttime."

Ford sighed, reaching for a pack he didn't have. He wanted some aspirin to chew on – this place was going to take at least twenty-four hours to get a handle for any of the mechanics. For now, his first goal was finding out if there was a sun, and if so, how he could find its light.

He mulled over that for a moment, retracing his steps to the refugee camp. How did he get from there to the dark alley?

As he thought about it, a light flashed to life near him, pulsing in dull colors.

The sight made him freeze, losing track of his thought process. It looked as though the air itself stretched and warped near his person, and it grew progressively noticeable as he tried to step away from it.

Taking a steadying breath, he reached his hand out to touch it. The air moved at the touch of his finger before _licking_ at his skin, as if hungry.

… It _tickled_.

The rest of the anomaly quickly coalesced around him, sucking in the hem of his coat and soaking into his boots. He lost mobility as it drew up on him, a molasses-like consistency absorbing his entire person.

He should have been horrified, but it didn't quite feel real. He didn't think to scream or run – he only watched it happen, a morbid fascination overriding his senses. He let the air take him, its ethereal grip strengthening over his limbs and eventually his whole self. When it covered his face, he thought he would lose the ability to breathe.

He didn't.

Enveloped in congealed space, the air entering his lungs felt thicker, but he kept breathing even as his view changed from dark streets to enchanting nebulae.

Nebulae.

Ford reached out to grab something, but nothing met his grip. He flailed for a moment, panic finally setting in.

He couldn't go back to the Nightmare Realm!

Stars filled his view, lighting the space with a faint, bluish glow. He spun about, momentum held by the open space. He feared that he'd be trapped here for Bill to find, all but wrapped up in a bow for his hunters to snatch up and bring in for their sweet bounty.

His escape was so short-lived. How cunning of him, falling right into one of Bill's traps! How could he do this? How could he be so unbelievably _stupid_?

His movement started to slow without his command, prompting Ford to hold his breath to stop hyperventilating. How could this be?

Space didn't work like this.

He wrestled his fear under control again as he stilled. He stopped, facing… up? Down?

Planets floated about on the horizon, colors saturated beyond what he considered physically possible.

This whole place looked unreal. Colors sparkled and pulsed on the horizon, contrasting what he knew about real space. Which meant that either America was somehow sadly misinformed about the nature of the cosmos or this wasn't really space.

He paused to take in the view for a moment and reorient himself.

Black surrounded him, proving a stark contrast for the color speckled on the horizon and bursting in the nebulae. Around him, the air was mostly void, save for some passing particles that looked like specks of shattered crystal or ice. There was no light for them to reflect, which led him to wonder how they managed to sparkle in the night.

The air was cold, he realized. There was no wind or snow or rain, but something about the air here seemed to draw the warmth straight from his skin. The fact that he didn't flash-freeze was yet one more factor that proved that this couldn't be space, which he was thankful for.

But that didn't make it feel any warmer.

He curled in a little, trying to preserve some of the heat he had left in himself. He couldn't persist out here for long and he regretted not eating more back on Earth – perhaps that would have lent him a little more insulation.

But then, Bill didn't exactly give him much of a choice in that regard.

He floated there for a while, mulling over the situation. Now that the adrenaline had faded from his system, he wondered what he could do. There was nothing out here, save for the light and color. He wondered if the planets he perceived were real, and if so, could he survive flying into their atmosphere? He certainly couldn't stay out here forever without food or heat.

Uncertain, he unfolded his limbs and stretched them out to their full length. They felt stiff, unused as they were to all the running and mugging he'd endured in the past… how many hours?

He didn't know. But he would certainly have to start scheduling some exercises into his days to ensure that he could fully adjust to the rigors of his wanted life.

At least in the cold vastness of this realm, he didn't have to worry about anyone finding and killing him. Or worse, bringing him to Bill's realm.

The air around him shifted and another rift opened in the space near him.

He recognized it this time, since it looked the same as the one that took him away from the refugee camp when he first entered the Nightmare Realm.

He hesitated, catching strange glimpses of a foreign world in the light emitted by the rip.

Did he dare?

Ford looked around him at the soft lights of this between realm, stomach growling and head feeling dangerously light.

Did he dare _not_ take it?

Steeling himself, he summoned just a little more energy and reached out into the void. It gladly took him, feeling like it did before, where it seemed to consume him like a hungry beast.

He could see faint signs of a distant world, grass green and flowing with life, amidst a torrent of chaotic lights and flashes.

Then the void took hold, flinging him back through reality and into the dark unknown.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own FFIV

Ford zipped through the air above desert fields, holding tight to the boomerang-shaped grip that attached to the cord above him.

The thick air of Beta III, known as "Gaia" to its residents, felt suffocating with his mask up, but Ford didn't dare remove it, since it protected him from the blasting wind and debris and allowed him to keep his sights focused on the landing point some four miles away.

Dust swirled below him, lit in various hues of red and orange as explosions went off in the hazy cloud of a sandstorm that roared around him, heat swirling and beating through his old coat and shirt from Earth.

The patches in his old slacks had been mended many time over to the point where he could barely consider them to be the same thing anymore and he hoped to replace them here.

Yet here he was.

The sun hid behind clouds of sickly grey, dyed red in the fading light of day. Though, it may as well be night, given how dark the coming storm made the skies.

Twisting a little to avoid an oncoming magic missile, Ford swung himself to the side, trying not to worry about the way the cord bounced in response. He didn't know how old this thing was, but he knew he should trust the sage that provided it.

Distant booms and echoing voices rang out in the din of the warzone below him, reaching through the atmosphere between them and the cloth covering his ears. He'd learned a while ago to block it out, as this was a war he couldn't stop.

Not without getting rid of himself, first.

When solid ground finally appeared in his view, Ford spread out his legs, trying to catch the wind and slow his drop. It didn't do much, so he still had to roll when he let go and hit the ground in a rather undignified mess of limbs and coat.

He was still getting used to his new life of dashing through alien scenery and trying his best to stay out of the way of Bill's hounds. Though he kept busy for the most part, he still found time to worry that he wouldn't be able to keep up this act for long. Especially during moments like these, when he was painfully reminded that he was never the most physically capable.

"Ow," he muttered to himself as he pulled himself back to his feet, dusting off his clothes and catching a glimpse of a yet another torn pant leg.

"You made it!" exclaimed a battle mage, rushing to his side. The attire of the woman's kind mostly consisted of hard leather vests over uniform, deep blue robes. She too wore a mask, though hers was crafted by the people indigenous to this planet, which meant it looked more like a something from a masquerade. "Palom bet me a thousand gil you wouldn't make the gap!"

Ford grimaced as feeling returned to him and a dull pain pulsed around his calf. "Tell your Master Palom," he said, voice muffled by the cloth wrapped around his face, "That he's an idiot if he thinks I would let a zip line keep me from the base camp."

Leonora laughed quietly through the metal and glass protecting her face. Ford couldn't help but feel impressed. When he first met her a week ago, she seemed barely capable of putting two words together. Now, smudged with dirt and wearing torn robes, she'd grown gracefully into her role.

He couldn't help a sense of shame that burned inside him, reminding him of his role in that.

"I doubt he would understand the nuance of that sentence, Master Stanford."

"Maybe not." Ford pushed forward. "But we need to go. I saw a new wave approaching on the horizon down east."

Leonora nodded and they rushed off together, Ford silently cursing himself. He'd only been here for so long and already the nation seemed overwhelmed by the sheer number of soldiers sent to claim him.

Bill's offer proved enticing to more than just simple-minded bounty hunters.

"We're surrounded on all sides," Leonora said as they made their way back to camp. "The armies appear to be unlimited – any time we think we've made advancement, another troop falls straight through the portal. It appears our only option is to close that portal, hopefully without using up too many lives on our side. It's very distinctly made out behind enemy lines."

Ford glanced down at the valley below them, noting the mad mix of colors. There were no clearly-marked forces – only the clash of blades and other weapons between individuals focused on surviving.

"No," Ford said, stopping abruptly.

Leonora stopped with him, gripping her staff with both hands. "What?"

Ford looked at her, breathing heavily through his mask. "No," he repeated. "This isn't worth it."

"What other choice do we have?" Leonora asked. "We fight for our-"

"For _me_ ," Ford said. "You're only losing lives out there because I'm here and I can't do that to you anymore."

He could see her knit her brows in confusion even through the metal and glass covering her face. "What?"

Ford looked around. The portal lay some dozen kilometers away, but he could probably reach it by the time knight fell. "Where's the next zip line?"

"Escape line," Leonora corrected him. "It's… I think fifty meters south."

Ford started running that way.

"No! You can't! It leads directly to the-!"

He ignored her, keeping pace with some soldiers that had caught sight of him. They must have been hunters, given they howled in euphoria and made to chase him.

Ford wondered if he would even make it to the portal.

"Get the others to safety!" he yelled behind him. "I'm taking these guys with me!"

Leonora must have heard him, as he saw her turn on her heel and run the other way.

Ford gripped his weapon closer to him, using his free hand to maneuver an arctic wind into his hand. The artifacts of this world proved quite powerful and efficient, though their normal weapons were simpler and primitive.

As the masses swarmed him, Ford tossed the winds without looking. They exploded with a booming, crackling sound, followed by a burst of gale force winds. The minions closest to it thudded to the ground, causing a ripple to pass through the masses as they all careened at the sight of their competitors falling.

Ford ran on, taking advantage of the distraction to make his way around. The portal was close. He could feel the effects of it vibrating the bones in his body. How they managed to build such a large one was beyond him. Their technology appeared to have advanced very differently in this world, compared to his.

Ford rushed on, trying his best to ignore the pain in his leg and the ache in his side.

The portal came into view, its majestic, crystalline frame appearing behind some decimated trees. The surface of it remained still for now, as most of Bill's minions had already found their way inside. Ford made a mental note to figure out how his location got leaked, whenever he could find the time to go poking around for an answer. A part of him worried about his recent contacts, but he certainly didn't want to wipe his circle again.

He blasted the area ahead of him with more artifacts, creating a line of explosions that sent the enemies careening out of the way. A couple ahead of him got a little more stupid, deciding to jump straight into the line of fire.

Ford braced himself, ready to barrel into them.

Only for a few arrows to land in their stomachs. Ford spared a glance behind him, but all he could see was a glimpse of fluttering green fabric in the distance beyond the smoke and dust.

Ford ran on, a stitch tearing open in his side and blossoming in pain. His feet hammered the trampled grass and with an angry shout, he used his blaster to blow open the goons in his path, most of them armed with guns like his.

Gaia was well-advanced, but the technology invading the planet would at least test its capabilities if not overpower it in the end.

Ford wasn't going to let that happen.

Dodging laser blasts, Ford had to duck behind the cover of a boulder, stalling his progress toward the gate.

Rock broke around him as fire overtook the area. The word had spread in the near vicinity and he heard dozens, if not hundreds, of voices crying out in excitement, Bill's name and promise echoing in the mass of noise.

And then a small voice, like that of a child, broke through the chaos, "Calm, traveler."

Ford broke his attention away as a small, green-blue rabbit with a red-jeweled forehead appeared beside him and swiftly scaled his arm, its ruby-like eyes fixated on him. Through the heavy cloth of his coat, his skin cooled at its touch.

"We understand," Carbuncle said. "We will carve a path for you."

Ford barely had time to process its words before a bolt of lightning struck down from above and the rain of fire ceased for a moment.

"Go."

Ford knew better than to question the creature.

He caught glimpses of Ramuh and Shiva blasting through a mob of hunters as he ran out from his cover, making for the portal again.

Carbuncle ran with him, icicles cutting through any opposition that got close.

"I can't repay you," Ford said as exhaustion threated to overcome the adrenaline.

"It's true," Carbuncle said. "You've disrupted our world and caused a lot of suffering. But we don't blame you. You are merely acting under the Nightmare Realm's influence."

The portal grew larger in size as Ford approached, its sheer size proving as astounding as it did when he first came through.

"Don't come back, traveler," Carbuncle said, slowing as they approached. "Once you're gone, we will get to repairing our lives and forget you ever came."

Ford felt that sting of regret again. "Thank you," he said.

They reached the portal and Carbuncle stopped, watching him with eyes full of eternity.

"Beware the forces that follow," it said as Ford stepped up to the portal, surrounded by the sounds of war. "If you don't do something, we might yet face something worse."

Ford didn't look behind him before leaping straight in.

Gaia immediately disappeared behind him.

* * *

 _A/N: I generally tried to avoid direct crossovers, but I couldn't resist this one. Yay, FFIV!_


	3. Chapter 3

He hung there, suspended in space, fingers ghosting through a sea of glittering stars. The air around him rippled, ready to take him wherever he wanted. In this place, he felt the closest to home he could ever feel. Were it not for his need to drink and eat, he could simply wait out the rest of his life in this haven where no one threatened to hurt him. Bill couldn't reach him, as far as Ford knew. Even in his nightly dreams, he would pretend he knew, but Ford could see it in his eye – Bill was blind to this pocket of space.

If he simply waited here, then no one would ever find him. Eventually Bill's goons had to give up, right? Eventually, Bill would realize he was never going to find Ford. Eventually, Ford would die, leaving the rest of the universe at peace, safe from the intrusion of the hunters.

How long had he been running? He had no way to measure time out here in the vast nothingness of dimensional space. Had it been a year? Or two or twenty?

He caught a glimpse of himself in the rippling space, his gray-peppered hair floating in the air like he was underwater. His skin showed signs of aging, given the frown lines and the wrinkle in his brow. Depending on how much stress factored in, Ford suspected it had been under a decade, but not much.

It had been almost ten years since he'd last seen Stanley. Ten years since he destroyed his own life and possibly his brother's as well. Ten years since he saw Bill in the Nightmare Realm. Ten years since he read a book from his own dimension or saw the emerald-green grass of Oregon.

He wondered sometimes if he would ever see it again. But then he would always remind himself how far out of the range of possible that was. Unless he stumbled into a portal leading to his own dimension – which was like finding a grain of sand on the beach – he could rely only on Stanley fixing the portal.

Ha! Fiddleford was more likely to come back and do it. Even if Stanley could, Ford could remember clearly the rage in his eyes when Stanley pushed him.

He couldn't see his brother ever forgiving him.

He'd probably instead made himself right at home in Ford's cabin and sold all his research and machinery to the highest bidder.

Anger and despair boiled inside him, causing Ford to wrench himself upward again. He couldn't die here! He had to get back to Gravity Falls! He had things to do, a life to lead! All his inventions that could have finally shown the world who he was, how valuable he was! He had to get Stan _out of there_!

He had to-!

Ford stopped, his hand touching the congealed and twisting air.

He had to…

Stanley's face echoed in his memories, panic driving his movements as he fought with Ford. The emotion twisting his brother's features that was the last thing he saw before being thrust into the Nightmare Realm.

He couldn't help a small part of him that said it didn't have to end that way. He could still do something about it.

The thought sparked a tingle of fear down his spine. He could deal with being an exile, since he'd spent enough time doing it, already. But facing his brother again – that scared him.

He didn't know what he would say if he got back. Maybe he would still punch Stanley in the face.

Or maybe he would apologize.

Maybe they would recreate their lives together in Gravity Falls so Stanley wouldn't have to live in the street and Ford could continue his research without Bill's interference.

Maybe.

Just maybe.

The odds weren't great, but by the stars, he had to give it another try.

Ford pushed through the barrier and began his journey anew.


	4. Chapter 4

He'd found himself an ice planet, Ford realized as he walked down the snow-carpeted path. He wouldn't be able to stay here for long, then. Once the sun fell, the temperature would drop too far for his human body to survive.

Pulling his coat tighter across his person, Ford hurried on.

Wind battered his coat and froze his face and fingers even through his clothes. He couldn't see the sun through the hazy sky, as snow flurried around him in clouds of white. The place looked more like a white desert in a sandstorm than anything else.

He wondered sometimes if these planets were so different from his after all. He couldn't help but think that maybe they were so far altered versions compared to his that they just _looked_ different. What if there was an ice version of him somewhere in these caverns, hiding and ready for that moment when Ford touched him and caused the entirety of the realm to collapse?

No. He couldn't afford to think like that. If that was the case, then he could never afford to touch down on any of these worlds, and he could only abandon himself to the cold reaches of the between to starve and die.

But if that would serve the universe…

No. For now, he pushed on.

False until proven otherwise.

Snow crunched underfoot, a testament to the ghastly temperatures he was forced to trudge in. It may not even be an ice planet, he reminded himself. He could have just found himself in one of the poles of a more life-friendly planet. But even as he moved, the cold sunk into his body, chilling him to the bone and causing his teeth to chatter.

He'd been in worse situations. But he still felt a small sense of panic start to crawl up his spine. He'd gotten so close to death before in the cold grip of winter, and he didn't want to repeat that experience.

Ford fought to control his breathing, even as it curled in misty tendrils around his face. The puffing whiteness of his breath looked almost like small mists gathering around his person.

The walk felt like forever, but eventually he reached the opening of a cave. He quickly ducked inside, glad for the chance to be out of the wind and snow.

He took a minute within the protection of its walls to warm himself back up just a bit. His fingers had gone numb and his legs felt stiff. He grimaced at the sensation, kicking his legs to revive the blood inside.

Then he trudged further into the cave.

The ground dipped down, leading him further downhill as he continued inside. Eventually he reached a cavernous room, filled with pillars of ice encasing long-forgotten pieces of civilization.

Not earth, then.

Ford took in the view, admiring the way the ice reflected the light of his flashlight in a prismatic array of bounced light. It broke into red and blue and yellow, casting shadows in the smaller chunks of ice, creating an effect like what one might see at a disco dance back home.

He played with that for a moment, moving the flashlight in different ways to get various effects out of the ice and moving the light to illuminate different parts of the cave.

Artifacts lay buried in the sand, ranging from design dishes to small bones. Ford wondered what must have happened here to get this layout, but he suspected flooding before a flash-freezing.

Somehow.

He wished he had more instruments for study, but being a wanderer like he was didn't allow for much to be kept on his person. It was mostly just the flashlight and his clothes.

Not very helpful for studying lost civilization.

With that thought, he directed his light away from the pillar and moved further into the room.

Sparkling motes of ice fell from the ceiling, creating a lovely glitter in the air when Ford illuminated it. His breath remained icy and white, but he almost forgot the cold as he took in the beauty around him.

As his light hit the air around him, it would illuminate tiny sparkles that shone and reflected like a thousand stars. He could pretend for a moment that he'd discovered the living space of some faeries or elves or other graceful folk.

The snow down here was stiffer and mostly frozen over, leading Ford to trip over himself once or twice.

Well.

More like a dozen times.

By the time he fell on his back for what felt like the hundredth time, he swore and pulled a small axe from his pack and used it to start carving a path in front of him that held a little more traction.

The atmosphere on this planet was more alien than he'd encountered before. His throat itched on contact, which encouraged him to use the mask ever present at his neck. He pulled it on, remembering to activate the filter up front.

He rarely had to use it – the rips in space only seemed to lead to habitable worlds and livable environments so far. He had yet to arrive somewhere where he needed his mask to live.

All the same, he was glad to have it.

A rumble came from deep within the cavern and Ford paused in his carving to listen. It ended abruptly, sending dying echoes through the twisting caverns. He squinted into the dark, trying to look past the light offered by his flashlight bouncing off the crystalline walls and floor.

Nothing met his gaze, so Ford went further in.

At this point, the ice formed a steeper slope and rock formations jutted out of the ice and crystal, looking suspiciously like stairs. Intricate patterns morphed their surfaces into twisted, elegant designs that hinted toward a mountain-based society. Ford wondered at far they would have progressed before the planet's behavior took a turn for the worst.

The mouth quickly gave way to a vast opening, revealing a cavernous room without quite the same level of ice covering every surface. Ford started pulling out some rope as he observed the area.

Ridges formed bridges and walkways, crisscrossing the space before him in a vast network of paths. Frozen stalagmites and stalactites jutted from floor and ceiling, creating the image of trees along the ground, as well as deep grooves in the rock showing where rivers may have once run. Ford traced the lines with a finger, trying to find where they led out of the cave, but walls blocked his view at every turn.

He would have to get closer.

Embedding his axe deeper into the ice, Ford tied rope to the handle around the base of the blade and tested it with some strong pulls before crawling over the lip of opening.

The closest drop was only some dozen feet, with the next after that looking to be even closer.

Just as he started rappelling down, another sound echoed through the cavern, eerily like the one he heard before both in length and pattern. Only this time it was closer.

And didn't sound like a rumble of a cave so much as a dragon.

Risking a closer look, Ford lowered himself down the second drop and stopped to observe.

The cavern looked almost like it was snowing, given all the ice filtering through the air, but he couldn't make out any signs of life. Anything that used to inhabit this place must have died off years ago.

He felt uneasy about the implications that had for his stay here. In case he couldn't find the next portal soon enough, he had to find a way to make a fire and keep himself warm until it did.

Another sound came, like the growl of a hungry beast.

A feeling of dread crept in.

If all life here had ended, save one vast creature...

How desperate would it be to find food?

Ford didn't want to find out.

He turned around and started on his way back toward the entrance, using his rope to scale the ice wall leading upward.

He suspected he'd have better luck facing the night temperatures outside than in here.

Another rumble sounded, ominous and deep. Ford allowed one more glance behind before increasing his pace. He quickly reached the top and yanked out his axe, resolving to recoil his rope and put it away as he moved.

He could swear he saw a shadow move out of the corner of his eye.

The ice was too slippery to move quickly and Ford mentally cursed at his luck. Using the axe to steady himself again would take too much time, though some of his tracks remained from before.

The ground vibrated a little under his feet before a distant cry rattled the air.

Heart beating like a drum, Ford rushed forward, skipping past half-buried artifacts and trinkets.

He'd learned not to carry anything a long time ago.

Breath turning ragged in the torturous cold, Ford found the mouth of the cave again, gladly bursting forth into cloudy light.

He went the opposite way he came, boots crunching in blessed snow that held traction and let him run faster and farther than before. The wind out here blasted him again, but he couldn't feel too bad about that.

Better to freeze to death than get eaten alive.


	5. Chapter 5

He drifted in memory.

Ford took solace in the time he spent in space. He didn't know why or how he could breathe out here, but he suspected it had something to do with the same forces that formed all the portals across the dimensions.

He floated through the air, letting the unseen currents guide him to his next destination.

It wasn't the same as the Twixt, but he still rarely encountered others in this place. Given the vastness of this realm between dimensions, he supposed that shouldn't be too surprising. The odds of running into anything else out here was quite small, given the sheer volume of space.

Though he often wondered why he never ended up in the void between galaxies. It was always nebulae space instead of the dead, black air that should have accompanied a trip into the true cosmos.

Some time ago, he concluded that this couldn't be space at all.

Maybe it was an opposite to the Nightmare Realm?

He wrote it off as wishful thinking. More likely, this place was merely the dominion of a neutral creature that preferred not to get involved in otherworldly shenanigans.

Ford kicked his legs behind him, propelling himself just a bit further despite the lack of gravity resisting him.

He could feel the next portal forming, given the vibrations starting up around his person, but it would take a couple more minute to finish coalescing. Ford braced himself, letting his momentum send him in a comfortable cruise down the annals of space. He stretched, taking advantage of his moment of rest to work out some of the kinks in his muscles. All the running acrobatics didn't leave him much of a chance to rest or recuperate.

The quiet of the Between blanketed him in silence, not having a sound to make out here in the vast nothingness of space – there was just him and the cool, shifting colors.

A low rumble rolled through the atmosphere – or lack thereof? – and Ford rolled back into a ready crouch. If something were to suck him straight to a cliff or the edge of a deep pool of water, he preferred not to be in a fragile stance when that happened.

So, when the inevitable happened and the space around him split open with shifting light, Ford let the light of the transport take him away from the Nexus.

He remembered that the planet he found himself landing on looked very earth-like, again.

At least, it did at first.

He stood in the middle of a vast field of grass, strangely short despite the lack of farmland or other surrounding area that might imply an unnatural upkeep. He couldn't even see any deer or goats or other such creatures that would trim it down.

Peeking behind some trees, he made out a drop off some yards away so Ford toed as close to the edge as he dared, looking down into the clouds and atmosphere separating him from the rest of the world. There was no cliff face or surface visible to him so he couldn't discount the possibility that he stood on a floating island instead of a mountain.

Given his position in unpopulated forest, he could only guess at the level of advancements this world had made in areas like transportation and terraforming. If they could keep a whole continent aloft, then they could probably keep it from looking artificial as well.

So, despite the foliage and wildlife hinting at a certain lack of civilization, he felt inclined to assume it, indeed, civilized.

By a _really_ advanced people.

He stepped back from the ledge again as the breath caught in his chest and he felt a sudden sense of vertigo take over. The cold wind up here battered his hair and coat, causing goosebumps on his skin.

Ford rubbed at his arms, trying to keep warm because it was colder here than he originally thought. The initial landing was always just a touch disorienting, and it took him a minute to recognize the effects of the atmosphere or temperature on his skin.

This place was cold, wherever it was. Though maybe that was just because he was what looked to be at least a couple of miles in the air.

Ford straightened his coat and pulled his mask loose. The air was clean – cleaner than any of the other places he'd been lately. Especially when compared with Beta III. That place could have choked him to death.

He pulled his goggles loose, allowing an influx of sunlight to assault his eyes. Blinking out the resulting spots in his vision, Ford took a moment to reorient himself. Without the dark film of his goggles or the stifling mask, the world looked different. It bore such a close resemblance to Earth now, Ford started to wonder if he'd landed in the future somehow. Even though he never moved through time to his knowledge, he wondered if maybe that had changed.

Or maybe this Earth advanced faster than his.

Ford walked away from the edge, casting his eyes about to behold the beautiful scenery. The grass, though strangely short, was almost jewel-ish in color, much like what one could find in the east and south of the United States. The sky held some dark clouds on the horizon, but otherwise the weather was perfectly clear and harmless.

A calm world.

And possibly safe.

Bill's goons had grown almost sluggish lately in their pursuit, especially compared with their initial zeal. After so many years, they must have finally started to find a sort of inevitability to their search. Though Ford still didn't feel entirely confident in his ability to elude them for the rest of his life, he found himself having greatly improved since he first started, and the longer he lived, the more friends he formed throughout the dimensions.

Except the closer parallels to his dimension, of course. He made a point of strictly avoiding all such places these days. He preferred not to think of himself as a mass-murderer, thank you very much.

After what felt like mere moments from when he left the edge of the cliff, a brightly-colored, yellow creature found him. It squawked and tilted its head as it approached, looking to be a cross between a chicken and a horse. Really, it just looked like an overgrown chicken. His head barely reached halfway up its abnormally-long neck.

"Oh?" Ford said, reaching up to touch its neck. "What's this?"

It squeaked pleasantly, leaning against his hand. Strange noise for a bird to make, Ford thought. He scratched its neck and it cooed happily.

Friendly. That was a relief.

"What if I call you specimen 98?" he asked it. "Just until I can find out your real name."

Noting an abandoned saddle on its back, Ford wondered if this was a method of transportation for people here. He looked around him, but the fields were otherwise abandoned.

"Where's your rider?" Ford asked, looking closer. He couldn't find any signs of foul play; there was no blood on the feathers or damage to the beast itself, as far as he could tell. The straps on the saddle looked worn and the leather faded. "Strange," he said. "Perhaps you ran away?"

It cooed again, pushing against his hand. "Well," Ford. "I've never been a great horse-rider, but I guess I can try learning with a giant chicken instead. It's not weird."

He gripped both sides of the saddle, though he found a distinct lack of a shoe-hook-thing to stick his boot in. The design on this world was different. The saddle itself didn't have the same arches and curves to its shape that Earth's had. It merely matched the form of the giant chicken. Ford worried how well the shape would fit, but he supposed he didn't have a whole lot of options.

Ford readied himself, warily avoiding the beast's overgrown talons. Each one easily matched the size of his face, if not bigger.

"Okay," he said, scrutinizing the saddle. "How am I supposed to know what to do about this? Darn it, I didn't study equestrian work in school!"

The straps, though worn, appeared intact. The only thing he could think to do was tighten them.

So, he did.

Ford finagled with the saddle, twisting it around until he could find each strap that attached to it. They used buckles just like the ones on Earth, so it wasn't too difficult to figure out how to pull them tighter. Once he'd adjusted them almost as a far as they could go – while still being careful so he wouldn't pinch the poor bird – he rounded the beast again and took hold of the two edges of the saddle.

Despite a couple of tries, his head barely clearing the edge of the bird's back, Ford gave up and dropped back to the ground. Heat rising in his face, he huffed and gave the bird an accusing glare. "This is why you don't have a rider, isn't it?" he said. "You make it too hard."

It cocked its head, beady black eyes fixed on him. Ford sighed and started rubbing its neck again. "How do I get on?" he asked, defeated. "Tell me. I know I'm doing something wrong."

The bird promptly dropped several inches, knees bending.

Ford paused, surprised, then tried again to mount. This time he easily cleared the ledge and swung his leg over.

"Great," he said. "But I don't have reins. Can I hold your feathers? Hm. How does one ride a giant chicken?"

It squawked and pitched into a run, neck lowered.

Ford yelped, grabbing the thing's neck. "No!" he said. "I didn't tell you to – ah!"

It ran, heedless of his protests. Trees and wildlife breezed past him, showing more population of life compared to the edge of the cliff, with squirrel-like creatures shooting up the tree trunks at the sight of the two of them. Within minutes of starting their run, Ford lost all sight of the edge where he originally touched down.

"Wait!" he said. "Not so fast!"

Wind gusted about them, making it difficult to keep his eyes open. Yet the chicken kept going, and he had to hold its neck tighter as it veered around some sharp turns and hopped over fallen logs. Ford watched as it nimbly skirted the edge of a hill crest, bouncing uncomfortably against its back, saddle digging into his thighs.

He grimaced at the growing pain. "This," he said to himself, "is precisely why I turned down that free riding class."

They rushed on, skirting around the edge of a rolling river and ducking through a crevice formed by a break in the ground. The sun shone brightly above them, but Ford could barely feel it past the chill. He wasn't dressed nearly warm enough for this place. That and the exhaustion left him feeling strangely sleepy.

A desert appeared on the horizon, but the chicken turned at a sharp angle away from it until a small village, surrounded by forest and trees filled their view. Finally, the chicken stopped at its gate, squawking triumphantly.

Ford dismounted, glad to be back on solid ground, and gave the chicken an appreciate stroke on the neck. "I can take it from here," he told it.

But when he pushed the gate open, he found no quaint little village to rest in.

He entered his study, back in Gravity Falls.

It all looked the same as he left it, with a few prisms scattered around the room, a lamp on the desk, large screens at the far end, their surfaces blank and dead. The walls were covered with black fabric, protecting him from Bill's eyes, and the temperature was just warm enough to stay focused.

He could still smell the must, and when he moved to the desk, he could make out the titles of the books he used to read despite the low lighting. Theories on relativity and space-travel were at the top of the stack, followed by some essays on time and dimensions. He could smell salt, which came from the steady dripping of blood on the edge of his desk. His third journal laid open before him, the monocle out and stained red.

Ford couldn't make out the contents of the open page, but the reminder filled him with a sickly sensation that churned his stomach and sent ghostly pains through his eyestalk.

The warmth vanished and an obnoxious voice soon broke into his head, "Well, well, well, well, well, well, well!"

The cabin changed to nothingness and the ground evaporated under Ford's feet. He hung suspended in the air, like he was traversing through the Nexus again.

"Guess where you are!" Bill said, appearing in a flash of yellow light. "You get three tries and the first two don't count!"

Ford glanced warily around, heart racing, as lights flared to life around him in an incoherent mess of colors. An inexplicable feeling of terror overcame him, but his legs resisted the urge to _move._ He froze in place as Bill floated in circles around him.

"What do you think?" Bill asked. "Having second thoughts yet?"

He struggled to think rationally, or even bring up habitual math practices. "Three point one four one five nine…" His breath came up short. "One five… Nine… Two six five? Three five eight nine seven nine three two three eight four six…. Eight four six…"

"Listen to that echo!" Bill said, flying up into sky as the colors around them slowed. All sound muted, and Bill came flying back down. "Everything you say here, it's comin' out way over there, IQ! What do ya think? Prime moment for me to take over, isn't it?"

"No," Ford managed. "One four one five nine…."

"Those stupid exercises aren't going to save you here! Nope, they've already started the procedure, and we've got front-row seats! If only you wouldn't give in to the sedative so quick! Look! You can barely move already!"

"Barely move?" He struggled to remember what exactly happened before he got here.

"That's because you didn't want to remember!"

"Shut up, you triangle!" Ford said, trying to move his legs again. They didn't respond. He should know this. It was only moments before…

"You know the best part of this?" Bill asked, propping his hands behind his head. "Come on, work that brain of yours. You're going to regret it! And I'm going to love watching you panic!"

Ford reached, but nothing came. "Three point one-four…"

"Your mind is shutting down, Stanford Pines! Just like it does when I take over! Don't you love how we have that little connection, now? I used you in your sleep so often, you can't help but associate unconsciousness with my presence! There's nothing you can do that will kick me out, now!"

The light of the Nightmare Realm cooled, colors dying into a dull, grey-ish tones. "Three point one…"

"That's the feeling of anesthetic," Bill said. "You must know it so well now! Remember all those times in the shack when an experiment went wrong or you tripped and cut yourself, or those times when you loathed the sensation of existing? Those times before innocent little Fidds came along and you had to help yourself without any outside advice or help? I think your grip in the needle slipped a couple of times, but you remember that numbing sensation, don't you? Oh, wait! _I_ caused all those!"

"Three…"

"Remember that time you woke up covered in bruises?"

"Three."

"Remember that time you woke up with your arm cut a thousand ways?"

"Three."

"Or that time you couldn't stop the blood dripping from your eye! Oh, that was a good one!"

"Three."

"All hurt so much, you had to go out and buy some anesthetic just to dull the pain! You were such a wimp! Kept crying and groaning and whining! Humans are so weak! I shoulda tried cutting off your extra digits while I was at it! Then you could be normal like the rest of them!"

His head started to feel stuffy. He struggled to understand what Bill said through the haziness in his mind. "Normal…"

He tipped and fell backwards, even though there was no gravity here in space to bring him toppling down. He hit the ground, which felt like pillows.

"No turning back now!" Bill said. "But just you wait – I'll betcha that before the day is done, you're gonna find yourself missing me!"

Bill then blinked out into nothingness.

And Ford woke to bright light.

He struggled to gather his bearings, senses dulled and sluggish. The brightness appeared to be a lamp of some kind, set directly above him. When he tried to move, none of his limbs responded. Though he saw big, black cords binding his wrists to a hard, metal table, he couldn't feel them at all.

A large hand rested on his left, prompting Ford to turn that way. His head felt like lead, and it moved ten times slower than he thought it should.

Was that hand purple?

Who did he know that had purple skin?

… Jheselbraum.

She thought he should protect his mind.

With a metal plate.

In his head.

Ford distantly registered the sound of a drill starting.

In his _head_.

He felt the drill connect, a sudden agony flaring up in his mind. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came.

 _You're gonna miss me!_


	6. Chapter 6

Jheselbraum hummed in thought as she stroked Stanford's hair. By human standards he was technically, relatively-speaking, older than her, but she couldn't wrap her mind around the concept. The human acted like he was barely more than an infant when presented with some of the simplistic technologies.

She steeled herself and stepped away. The poor thing had barely retained consciousness for an hour altogether since the surgery and that was two days ago, now. She could only hope that Bill hadn't yet been able to put together the pieces regarding what had blocked him from Stanford's mind. She couldn't decide if it was comforting or concerning that she hadn't seen anything from the accursed triangle yet.

Through the window, Jheselbraum watched the last rays of daylight slip behind the horizon and cause a burst of teal light against the mountainside.

Her shrine sang quietly with the crystals and gems interlocking across the ceiling and walls. Stanford found those to be the most confusing part of her home. Somehow on his homeworld, they didn't have minerals to extract energy from like hers did. Or, contrary to what he told her, Jheselbraum found it more likely his race simply hadn't yet found out the method necessary for doing so.

The air tinged purple as night fell and her home's air shifted to accommodate for the lack of light entering. The crystals bounced just enough light to keep things visible without causing a noticeable contrast to the sky outside. Jheselbraum knew to remain discreet during this time of the day.

Bill liked to peek around in the dark.

"What-…"

Jheselbraum almost jumped. Sheets and blankets stirred and Stanford's head appeared in the pile of cushions. She glided back over, slipping through air currents to arrive at his side. "Hush," she whispered. "You should rest."

"But-" Stanford tried to protest, but it died on his lips as he instead chose to squint at the darkness around him. "What time is it?"

Jheselbraum struggled in keeping up with his language and remembering how to interpret the state of the planet relative to the sun in ways that he would easily understand in his groggy state caused a slight chest ache. Instead she simply smiled and took a seat beside Stanford. "Late," she said simply.

Stanford nodded, as if that was exactly what he expected to hear. He laid down again, letting the blankets engulf him again. Jheselbraum eyed his bandages with three views, focusing her attention on the exact hue and tautness of the cloth around his head where the worst of the cuts were made. She'd only changed it a few streaks ago, but she worried about how fast it had bled through.

Humans were so fragile.

"He's got my brother," Stanford said weakly. "I'll never go home."

"Your brother is fine," Jheselbraum said. "You're just dreaming."

"No," Stanford said. "No."

The fever hadn't broken. "Hush, child," she said, even as images of his torrential future flashed before her eyes. A moment of panic disrupted her calm as it occurred that perhaps her visions had connected with his dreams.

But they installed the plate. To their knowledge, the surgery was a success.

She debated silently for a moment, then decided to check. If something went wrong, it was better to know sooner rather than later, and Stanford was in a stable condition now, allowing for her to afford a small scan.

Jheselbraum pushed.

And slammed into a solid wall.

Something inside her reverberated with the action and Jheselbraum had to blink for a moment to clear the disorientation.

Stanford mumbled incoherently and turned over.

Relief quickly replaced her worry and a satisfied smile broke across her face. While Bill's psychic reach was greater than hers, she couldn't see any way for him to get past this one. Little Stanford would rest in peace from now on.

He cried out suddenly, limbs thrashing about and tangling the sheets.

Jheselbraum grimaced, mentally correcting herself. He would be safe from Bill's venomous claws, but even with all the advancement her race had compared to Stanford's, there still was no such cure for deeply-cut trauma like this.

"Get," Stanford murmured, wrenching his head back, muscles pulling taut across his respiratory tube. "Away!"

Jheselbraum whispered softly, leaning in closer, "Sunlight."

He didn't respond, gripping sheets with white knuckles and skin beading with sweat.

She spoke just a little louder, hoping he would hear. "Aged paper."

He wavered, losing just a hint of his tension.

Jheselbraum continued, "Gentle colors, light sheets." It wasn't a standard human lullaby. Instead it was something her people used with frightened children and she found it quite effective in calming even Stanford during episodes like this. She merely had to list terms and phrases that Stanford associated with happy times and contentedness to help break him out of his habitual nightmares.

He thought it was strange the first time he woke to her doing it.

"Autumn leaves." She didn't know what those were, but it was something Stanford mentioned sometimes and appeared to regard with nostalgic fondness. "Cosmic sand."

It was difficult to think of words sometimes, as Stanford wasn't one to dwell on positive topics. Jheselbraum worked to help him break out of that habit, but that was something that would take time, and Stanford was also not one for accepting change. His stubbornness was exceptional and she wondered if that applied to all humans.

"Beach sand." As she spoke, she rubbed a hand up and down his upper shoulder, hoping the physical stimulation would help wake him to reality. "Jelly beans." Another term she didn't understand. "Warm sweaters. Smoked wood. Concrete rooms."

Gradually, Stanford stilled under her hand, breath steadying to a rhythmic pattern. His heaving chest slowed and his tensed limbs fell limp against the soft cushions enveloping him.

"Sparkling lights."

"Fiddleford."

Jheselbraum started at Stanford's voice. His eyes were still closed, and the way his eyelids twitched showed that he still wasn't entirely at rest.

She waited for him to say something else – he never used that word before and she wondered what it could mean – but he remained silent after that. Jheselbraum debated whether she should take note of it for future reference, in case it might prove helpful later. But there was no way to tell if it came from his nightmares or from her lullaby.

Jheselbraum stopped reciting and leaned back, letting the pillows support her. Humans were so tiny, with their diminutive frames and height. And yet they managed to hold so much raw emotion. How did they fit it inside such tiny bodies?

Powdered fireblooms scented the air with a soft hint of high-sun. Perhaps she should have chosen something a little cooler, in case smells managed to affect human body temperatures. Jheselbraum made a mental note to do another test on Stanford as soon as he woke again.

Or maybe they were as desensitized as the trollkind of Dimension 29(-).

For now, however, she figured she would let him sleep, so she settled back in her chair, determining not to ruin what good sleep he would catch.

He needed every moment.


	7. Chapter 7

Jheselbraum whispered softly to herself as she pieced together another crystal light. Come sunrise, she would want at least a couple hundred of these to capture the energy and prepare for the coming week of darkness.

The room was silent save for her quiet words, meaningless and unintelligible to anyone but herself. The light outside was slowly fading, the sun setting on one more day. One more day that she could evade their pursuers, one more day that she had to live in the quiet peace of her home.

She stopped when she heard a pair of feet shuffling in the flowerfeather rug. The telling twinkle of shifting glass reached her ears and she looked to see Stanford groggily lumbering his way toward her. He rubbed at his eyes, his too-large robes brushing the ground on which he walked. He squinted in the light of her parlor, mouth hanging open an inch.

"You're up," Jheselbraum said, clicking another gem into place. "Just in time. I could use some help with these."

Stanford looked at her, scratching at the fuzzy shadow forming on his head where the doctor had shaved off all his hair. "Don't belong here," he said simply, blinking bleary eyes.

"Oh." Jheselbraum hesitated in her assembly, looking him up and down. He was back on his feet, yes, but not all too alert. Shadows marked where his eyes were, reflecting the restlessness of his sleep. Despite him being unconscious for almost half a cycle now, it appeared his body still struggled to recover in full.

"Of course, you belong here," Jheselbraum said. She gestured to the seat beside her, and Stanford cast her a suspicious look. "Why wouldn't you?"

"I-…" Confusion. He knit his brows, mouth working silently. Jheselbraum allowed a small smile of relief. It was just the painkillers doing their job, then. "We're on your world," he said, though it came off more like a question.

"Yes, Stanford. But don't worry about that for now. Come help me with these lights."

He looked at her, expression blanking again for a moment. Then he came over, robes shifting at his feet. She wished for a moment that there wasn't such a difference in size between them, for then she wouldn't have to worry about her ward, still weak from surgery, tripping over his own feet and hurting himself.

Jheselbraum smiled as he took a spot opposite her at the table, looking down at the lights with empty eyes. The shine and excitement she'd gotten to know before the surgery had died, replaced with a discouraging numbness.

"It goes like this," Jheselbraum said, demonstrating with her current sample. "You activate the connector, then screw it onto the base like so. Start with that, okay?"

Stanford watched her for a moment, though his eyes didn't follow her movements. He picked up a base, and then a connector from their respective piles and looked between them for a moment.

Then tried to click them together by tapping the front of each to the other.

Jheselbraum sighed as he did that for a moment, completely unnoticing of the jack and port on each piece. He set them down again, brows still knit together.

"I don't understand," he said. "Why don't I understand?"

Jheselbraum went through the process again, emphasizing its simplicity. "Your medication," she said. "It's affecting your ability to think clearly and reasonably. See here. You attach these two parts to their receivers, then fold it together like so."

"Oh."

"You'll get it." She kept assembling even as Stanford tried to force two solid plates together. The crystals were built to hold up to even a child's destructiveness. "Be patient."

"They…" Stanford flipped one around in his palm, surprising Jheselbraum with his dexterity. "Aren't working."

Jheselbraum rested a hand on his, stopping his work. "Don't push yourself," she said. "You're in no condition to be solving alien problems. These things are far different from anything you know on Earth, and your brain can hardly handle computing things that you've been working with your whole life. Be patient."

"But-"

"No buts." Jheselbraum set her finished crystal down and gathered the rest to set back in their cabinet for now. "It sounds like we should be distracting you with something else for now."

"Distracting," he repeated. "Why should I be distracted?"

"Because your body is in a lot of pain, even if you don't feel it. You're very tired and your resources limited. How about we go chart some constellations instead?"

He slowly nodded.

Some lucidity was returning to him, she thought with relief before pulling a large, black electropaper out from under her desk. "I'll bring extra color to help keep you stimulated."

"I don't know," he said, yawning. "I'm not sure I can track colors right now."

"I'll help you." Jheselbraum took his hand and Stanford followed her outside. "Our sky is a little different from yours, in case you don't remember that part too well."

"I think I do."

They stood on the balcony for a bit, gazing into the darkening sky before Jheselbraum encouraged Stanford to take a seat. She didn't know how long he would remain alert, but she thought it would be good to give him something to do while he was. This was precious time.

"See that?" she asked, pointing upward. "The three stars revolving around one?"

Stanford squinted. "I think so?"

"That's our guiding constellation," she said. "It's easy to find, and from there you can trace some of the others. Do you have your paper?"

One step ahead of her, Stanford was already tracing the shape.

"And the next one-"

"There?" he pointed.

Jheselbraum nodded. "The Queeli Lady. Kind of like your planet's fox."

"Three points?"

"Four."

"Ah." He kept marking, though he still moved so slowly compared to before the operation. "What about that cluster there?"

"If you trace it in a kind of zigzagging line," Jheselbraum said, "Then it becomes the Serpent."

Ford paused, frowning. "The what?"

"The Serpent. Oh, dear, do you not have that on your world? I thought for sure you did."

"Ah. Serpent. Serpent." His hand remained still. "Just… give me a second."

"Take all the time you need."

"I…" He yawned. "I'm having some trouble staying focused. A serpent is the constellation, right?"

"Yes."

She watched him for a moment, but he never touched the paper again with the marker. He went quiet, eyes fluttering, and eventually the marker fell from his limp fingers and clattered to the ground before he promptly followed, slumping over the map and falling to the side.

Jheselbraum sighed, then took the map and picked up where he left off. Better that he had something to take home with him, so he could remember their time together. Human memory was so fickle.

She finished the rest of the map, working until she could hear the soft breathing of her ward. Then she stood and picked him up. It wouldn't be good for him to sleep out here in the cold all night.

She took him back to his room, gathering up the robes falling past her elbows. That reminded her that if he was going to stay here much longer, then she would have to tailor him some clothing that fit. Something in black would likely prove helpful in his adventures, given a good amount of pockets and tough material to protect him.

The sheets from his bed had twisted and been tossed to the ground at some point. Jheselbraum raised an eyebrow as she set Stanford back down on his bed before getting around to untangling his blankets.

She folded up one of the sheets that she decided in hindsight was probably a little too small to make much of a difference in the grand scheme of things, and she put that one away. The rest, she was careful to rearrange around him such that it would hopefully not interfere with his sleep anymore.

He curled up, shivers racking through his body as she replaced the blankets, throwing them atop him with one quick movement. As they settled, the shaking died down a little, though his eyes still squinted as if in discomfort. Jheselbraum sat beside him, rubbing at his shoulders and trying to stimulate the heat back into his system.

After a moment, he stilled and Jheselbraum started up another lullaby. "Warm twilight," she said. "Pine needles."

She couldn't help noticing the unsolicited sadness that welled around her lungs. She already found herself missing their conversations, when Stanford would rattle on about his planet's theories and science that were so far behind his own, and yet he would discuss it like it was such obvious truth.

She missed watching the gears turn in his head when she would nudge him further in his research, suggesting "possibilities" to helped him discover the reality of how quantum mechanics worked in some areas of space. She missed watching the lights turn on in his eyes when she showed him a sunrise or a sunset that proved particularly colorful or prismatic.

"Sleep well, little human," she said, ending her lullaby. "I would have you back soon. For if you don't hurry, I fear we'll never meet again."

She stood, returning to the work of her lights. If he didn't finish recovering within the week, she knew she would have to find another place for him, then leave him to the wild.

The thought left a sour taste in her mouth as Jheselbraum finished another piece.

Another all-nighter, it was.


	8. Chapter 8

When he came to himself again, Ford found himself alone.

Gone was Jheselbraum's calming shrine, with its burning candles and shimmering crystals. Silent were the tiny chimes and mechanical whirring, replaced with only the lonely whispering of desert sands blowing over crested dunes.

Ford felt the tiny grains under his hands, rough against his skin and hot to the touch. Why would she leave him alone in the middle of a hot desert?

Why would she leave him alone at all?

Pain returned to him, causing Ford to wince as something spiked in his head. He had improved drastically in the time he spent at Jheselbraum's, but he hadn't quite fully recovered and they both knew it.

What led to him waking up here?

He felt at his scalp, where his hair had mostly grown back to a buzz-cut level, but didn't quite cover the scar running around his scalp.

He stood, finding a bag wrapped around his left shoulder. Inside, he found basic foodstuffs and medication, capable of sustaining him on a barren moon for at least a week, properly rationed.

He blinked, vision still blurry from sleep. Stars glittered on the horizon despite the sun shining in full force ahead.

This wasn't Jheselbraum's planet anymore.

Ford shouldered his bag, shifting the weight to rest more on the other side of his back. Many of his muscles still hurt from being in bed for so long. His legs no longer moved like they used to, though it got better with every step as muscle memory returned to him and his body readjusted to the climate.

He could still feel the lingering effects of the numbing agent in his bloodstream, evidenced by the sluggish sensation in his head. He could barely recall what had happened, likely another effect of the drug.

Brushing sand from his coat, Ford started walking. He wasn't going to find anything here.

The sun beat down on him from its position high in the sky and he had to squint even through his goggles just to see ahead of him given the blinding reflections caused by the sun hitting the sand.

Why a _desert_ , of all places?

He reached through his memory again, trying to bring out the moment that led to this, but he may as well be reaching through a brick wall. Nothing came, and his head only hurt worse for the effort.

Something had happened, and he worried that it was really bad.

But for now, he knew the only direction to go was forward.

So, he forced himself to trudge forward.


	9. Chapter 9

I do not own Steven Universe, either. In fact, this bit was inspired by Itsaaudra's fanart of these two on Deviantart. Check it out if you find the time. (No ships, as usual)

She was small, for a gem. Ford crouched down to her level, cocking his head at the way she curled up against the rock formation. Given her indignation earlier, he would have expected more backlash for his getting so close.

"Peridot," she said. "My name is Peridot."

"Peridot," Ford said softly, extending a hand. "I'm Stanford, or Ford if you prefer. What planet are you from?"

"Homeworld, of course." Peridot glared up at him, eye glinting green. Her visor protected her face only slightly from the starlight, but Ford suspected the advanced technology would keep out stronger things.

Like bazookas.

"What are you, an idiot?" she asked.

"I've heard of your planet, I think," Ford said. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

"It wasn't my fault!" Peridot leapt to her feet suddenly, hands curling into fists. "Do you think I'm some kind of traitor?"

"Of course not." Ford held out a hand in what he hoped to be a placating gesture. "I just know that this is a long way from the gem homeworld, and you look lost."

Peridot pursed her lips, skin shimmering like a jewel as she shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not lost, you clod. I'm just reassessing my situation."

"In the middle of an asteroid belt?"

"It was close!"

"Well." Ford looked around them. "I see, then. Very close, yes. Ahem. Perhaps we could help each other?"

"I don't need help!"

"Right." Ford stood, brushing off his clothes. "Then perhaps you could just help me?"

Peridot glowered, lips curling in disgust. "Why?"

"I'm not asking you to trust me," he said. "In fact, I'm putting myself at entirely at your mercy and ask for one thing in return."

Her eyes glowered in distrust. "Keep talking."

Ford offered his hand. "I want a friend."

Peridot looked between his face and his hand, then stiffened. "What's wrong with you?" she demanded.

He hesitated. "I guess I was contradicting myself a bit..."

The gem snatched his hand, showing surprising strength for her size. "This!" she said, forcing his fingers apart and silently counting them off. "Six! Six fingers! How did this happen?"

"I-" Ford fidgeted in her grasp, tempted to yank his hand back. She was strong for her size, but he was still much bigger. "I'm not educated in the biology of it."

"Liar." Peridot stepped closer, eyes narrowing.

"It's just a mutation of my genes," Ford said. "It's strange for humans, too, but I promise you that it's totally natural." Ford twisted his wrist in her grip enough to display his hand, palm up. Peridot eyed it suspiciously, fingers prodding his. Her skin felt a bit rough, as Ford found was normal for gems. The makeup of their biology made for harder, more crystalline skin and Peridot's felt especially rock-like.

Ford winced as she poked him in the palm, nail digging into the skin. She didn't notice when his hand twitched at the pain. She counted under her breath, "One, two, three, four, five, six… one, two, three, four, five…"

"Same on this one," Ford said, offering his other hand. Peridot took it too, eyes raking it over. "It's like you've never seen a human's hand before," he said, unable to help a small smile of amusement.

Peridot shot him a glare. "I've totally seen human hands before!"

"Sure."

Peridot took a seat, continuing to study the hands and compare them against each other. "Perhaps I could make you some copies?" he offered.

Peridot dropped them again, turning her attention back to her own hands. "You're weird," she concluded.

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"Fine," Peridot said. "I accept your offer. We'll form a mutually beneficial partnership."

"Wonderful." Ford adjusted the position of his bag, "Let's get going, then. It's a long way to the closest star, and I think we're prime for another portal opening in a few hours."

"Portal?" Peridot asked, coming to walk beside him across the asteroid. "Do you know what's been causing those, then?"

Ford shook his head. "I think I might have a connection, but I have no idea how it works or how to fix it. I've been through more than a few dimensions at this point, now, and I'm no closer to an answer than I was when I first started many, many years ago."

"How many years? A thousand?"

"Humans don't live as long as you, little gem."

"Don't call me little!"

"Okay. Humans don't live as long as you, Peridot. Most of us die by the time we're a hundred years old."

"Because of war? Is it that bad on earth? Wow."

"No," Ford said. "Our bodies just weren't made to live long like yours."

"Why not?"

Old anatomy classes came to mind, and he remembered learning about why and how cells died later in life. "Because it's how we work," Ford said. "Maybe it'll change in a couple thousand more years, but for now we're really fragile creatures compared to you."

Peridot scrunched up her face in confusion and concentration. "That's weird," she said.

"Yes," Ford said. "Yes, I suppose it is."

They walked across the asteroid, feet crunching in the rock dust and debris. Beyond them, Ford could make out the distant shape of their galaxy, its edges glowing white in the light of the distant stars.

"How do you see the universe, Peridot?" Ford asked. "What do you look at when you're faced with creation like this?"

Peridot wrinkled her brow. "What's that supposed to mean? Isn't it just a random collection of matter?"

"It is," Ford said. "But that's not all. What do you think of the stars?"

"Giant balls of gas."

"The asteroid beneath our feet?"

"It's a rock."

Ford paused, casting Peridot a confused glance. "Shouldn't you have advanced vision given your optic center?"

"I do. This is a rock. It doesn't exactly do much. Can't even fuse with it."

"Fuse?"

"You know, like a fusion dance?"

"Fusion dance?"

Peridot glanced at him sideways. "It combines the powers and being of two gems, including thought and character to create a single being, superior in strength and power. It's something we do in combat to delegate and modify for victory and improved strategy."

"How?" Ford asked, hands stilling over his bag. "Do you use a machine that combines the different molecules? How would you get over the incompatibility of their DNA structures?"

"I don't know everything!" Peridot exclaimed in frustration, throwing her arms in the air for a bit. "It's just the fusion of two gems! Through dance!"

"Dance."

"Yes." Peridot stopped, looking at him. "What's with your eyebrows doing that thing?"

"How does it work?" Ford asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

She snatched his hand and Ford couldn't help a small yelp of surprise at the strength she displayed in yanking him close. For such a small gem, he wondered about her battle properties. But then, it seemed to him none of the gems he encountered turned out to be real fighters.

And yet they were always so quick to beat him up.

"It goes like this," Peridot said, guiding his hands to hold hers. Color rose in her cheeks, a fluorescent glow, lime in color. "Ugh. This is stupid. You're a human. You don't even know how to dance, do you?"

"Not so much." Ford lifted her hand into a small twirl. Peridot moved with him, not at all protesting to him taking the lead. "I learned the basics of the waltz back in high school."

"The what?"

"It's the most common dance on my world." Ford stilled, unpleasant memories bubbling to the surface. "Every kid learns it, but some are better than others."

"It's your fault this is stilted," she announced, breaking contact and placing her hands on her hips. "I've fused with many gems in the past."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. I've fused with…" She hesitated. "That one gem. And… that other gem."

"How did you end up here?"

"Betrayal," she said. "One that I should have seen coming. I spent too much time among the rebels against my home planet, and in the end, they decided their little lives were worth more than those of our entire race."

"Oh." Also, not a favorite topic. He supposed he kind of walked right into that one, though, given she was sitting alone on a forsaken asteroid. "What if I take you with me?" he asked. "I could use a friend."

Peridot scowled, as if catching an unpleasant scent. "Fine," she said, throwing her head to the side and avoiding eye contact. "But only because I don't think you deserve to die just yet."

Ford smiled. "I'll take the compliment."


	10. Chapter 10

They managed to find a planet with a normal, abandoned residence for them to work in. Peridot had never worked with this place, but it happened to have the technology they needed. The house was quaint and idyllic, but big enough to allow for Ford's need to scatter junk across the floor and set up fusers. The windows were limited, which Peridot thanked Yellow Diamond for. Broadcasting their presence wouldn't be good for discretion.

The crystal arches in the residence reminded her of home, though the rest was of a simpler design from a more primitive society.

The work progressed quickly – it took only a few days to get the parts they needed, and then several of this planet's sun cycles to get it all put together.

Peridot examined her new extenders in the mirror, admiring the lanky form it allowed her shape. Nearby, Ford folded his arms, likely proud of his subpar work. Peridot didn't think he did that much – humans didn't understand Crystal technology as much they thought they did – but she had to admit that he didn't entirely mess this one up.

"The color doesn't match," she said. "These pieces are all grey."

"I figured we would touch up on the aesthetic after," Ford said. "How does it feel? Can you move easily?"

Peridot tried walking around. She turned in a circle, stepping quickly and purposefully. The knee rubbed at her joints awkwardly, which she knew would lead to scuffing later. The arms didn't move very intuitively, but when she got them to listen, it turned slightly more fluid. "You imitated the shape of the extenders okay," she said. "Sort of. But we need to fit the knees in better because I don't want my legs to kill me before the enemy does."

"And?"

"And I can move." She tried walked around the room, wobbling a little. The leg extenders didn't fit perfectly to her shape alongside threatening rashes. "We'll need to tune the sensors at the port cusp to attach more securely to my skin."

Ford pulled out a notepad and started writing things down. "Anything else?"

"The color is still terrible. Can't we make it a dark green or black?"

"Patience, Peridot. We'll get to it."

She frowned, resting her hands on her hips. "These are very human-like," she said. "I want my laser gun and propeller back."

"You can still do that," Ford said. "Try pulling the thumb."

"The what?" Peridot asked. When did he-?

Never mind that. She pulled her left thumb back and her new fingers launched into a barrel shape.

"Now," Ford said, "Don't activate it, or-"

She fired.

Lasers shot out like bullets, blasting the far, pale-blue wall with small bouts of green energy.

She couldn't help the grin splitting her face when she stopped and the wall promptly broke in two, exposing the outside and letting in a rush of carbon dioxide and oxygen among other scattered elements. "Yes!" she said. "Oh, I've been _waiting_ for this!"

Ford sighed, patting down his singed hair. "Yes," he said, jotting something else down. "It's fully functional. Now, what colors were you thinking of?"

"I'll show you," Peridot said, letting her arm fall to rest at her side again. "What else can this do?"

"You have jets at the bottom of your feet, your left hand contains a short sword for emergencies, and there's a link in the pointer finger of your right hand that's connected to a similar device in my coat, so we can always keep in contact."

Peridot twirled the "barrel" that was her fingers, enjoying the way it clicked and turned. She couldn't see any point or reason for the sound, but she found it strangely satisfying.

"Okay," Ford said, putting his pad away again. "Let's try tuning it up a bit. Don't want those knees wearing through your ankles.

Peridot looked at him, pausing in her fiddling with the handgun. She didn't want to take them off. "I'm not going to take them off."

"Peridot. We have to fix them eventually."

"No."

"I thought you didn't like the way it fits?"

"I don't."

Ford sighed, taking a seat nearby. "I'm getting too old for this."

"You're only fifty-eight-ish Earth years," Peridot said. "How's that too old for fixing things?"

He chuckled, though Peridot couldn't understand why. "Do you know humans very well?"

"I spent a whole year on their gem-forsaken planet! How could I not?"

"That's all the time you need, isn't it," Ford said. He smiled, but it felt fake to Peridot. It didn't… reach his eyes.

"Fine," she said, removing the extenders again. She _hated_ how small it made her feel to lose them. "But they'd better be done by tomorrow."

"If you want to help me pull an all-nighter," Ford said. "Sure."

"It's not like I need to sleep or anything," Peridot said. "Unlike you."

"You know how much you want to take in the knees?"

Peridot blinked. "How could I not know? I just wore the thing!"

"I forget that humans work differently." Ford picked up the largest pieces of her extenders and gestured for her to retrieve the rest. "Let's get started so you can get back into them quicker."

"Wait," Peridot said, grabbing his hand. "Why are you upset? I don't understand."

"Upset?" Ford repeated. "Why would you think I'm upset?"

"Your eyes are doing that thing."

"What thing?"

Peridot scowled. "How am I supposed to know how it works? You're the one that wasn't born on the Homeworld with normal biology and physics."

Ford blinked at her, frozen to the spot. "You just called me an alien."

"Why wouldn't I?"

He hesitated. "It's just… weird. How come I've never seen myself as such even though I'm the one jumping dimensions?"

"Again, you're expecting me to know things beyond what I consider reasonable. But answer my question! You're feeling emotions, and I want to know why!"

"I guess…" Ford focused his attention on the extenders. "I was just happy to have a friend for once."

"Ew," Peridot said. "Who says I'm your friend? We're just doing things together."

"That _is_ what friends do."

"I don't think so." Peridot grabbed her extenders from him. "That's not how it's defined in your planet's dictionary."

"Do you want to do these by yourself, then?"

"That would be tedious."

"Then I suppose it'll be a team effort."


	11. Chapter 11

Ford sat, watching the stars, once again left alone on a dark asteroid. Beside him a gem sat, glowing green in the void. Its soft light was all that Ford had to see besides the distant stars and nebulae. It was safe enough. He could trust her to repair herself without interruption.

"You can take care of yourself, can't you?" he asked. "You gems… you're very difficult to take out for good."

She continued to float, shimmering in the light of the two moons and rotating slowly, facets reflecting and breaking the light, sending it bouncing off at a hundred different angles. Ford wondered at the biology of it and how it would feel to be trapped for weeks at a time, reforming the body and reknitting muscles and joints and skin.

"How long has it been?"

No answer came. Not that he was expecting one, of course. Gems couldn't speak after being getting critically hit like Peridot was. Not when all that made up their body was a single, glowing gemstone

Like their heart, or their core, or whichever they defined as their central operating piece to be.

He couldn't take her with him forever. He had to return to the Nightmare Realm eventually.

And he knew he wouldn't make it back. The minute he stepped into that realm again, he'd seal his fate. Either he would beat Bill and save the universe, or Ford would die.

But his chances weren't getting any better, especially as his joints started popping in the morning and his back would ache for inexplicable reasons.

Every year ticked one closer to his death. Maybe that was why Bill's goons had finally given up. At this point, Bill knew he need only bide his time before Ford either died or came crawling back.

He looked down at the blaster in his hands. He'd been traveling for too long already. If he was going to go and take care of Bill, he would have to do it soon.

And it wasn't like there was anything left to hold him back here.

Bidding farewell to the gem, Ford stood, knees aching from sitting for so long, and leapt from the asteroid. All he had to do was find directions to the Nightmare Realm, which he couldn't do just by falling asleep anymore.

Thank goodness.

But that meant he would have to find another way to contact Bill.

Activating the thrusters on his boots, Ford made for the closest station. _Everyone_ had connections to Bill – he just had to find the right one.

For better or for worse.


	12. Chapter 12

Ford laid in the grass, looking up into the sky, Mabel and Dipper resting on either side of him. Stan had gone back inside a while ago to get some lunch and the twins fell asleep beside him, leaving Ford to his own thoughts.

It still looked so alien to Ford, the green grass and the pine trees and the blue sky. No strange hues of pink or blue to break up the earthy tones or terrains. He'd seen forests like this in alternate dimensions of his home, but in none had he felt so… at peace. Something about the air here simply _fit_ into his lungs and the birdsong could have been his mother's lullaby.

His old sweater felt itchy against his skin, stifling as it was in the August heat. He wasn't used to it like he'd become with his black one, and the heat of the day only made it worse.

But that would change.

He knew from experience that some things needed only a bit of time to feel invisible. He would come to take this place for granted again, this sense of security.

As it was, his fingers still twitched, ever ready for the sudden intrusion of an angry flesh-eater or a gold-hungry bounty hunter. He kept his gun inside his coat as always, ever ready even though he could still remember watching Bill enter Stan's mind. He remembered the feel of Stan's suit, worn and thin. He could smell the cheap cologne and hear the distant cackle before Bill realized what had happened.

He could see Stanley's empty eyes and feel the heat in his own eyes as his fingers pressed against the trigger.

He could feel the resistance before it gave way and the ray of blue hit his brother.

And he lost Stanley.

Panic hit him. What if Mabel's scrapbook hadn't worked? He wouldn't have thought to try to jog Stanley's memory like that. What if he didn't figure it out within an hour of erasure?

What if he lost his brother forever?

What if he never got to say, "thank you?"

What if…

Ford heaved a deep breath, forcing himself to return to the present. He knew these moments like he knew his name, and he knew them to be baseless fears.

Well. Not baseless.

But it didn't matter anymore because now Bill was dead and Mabel _did_ use her scrapbook. Even those galactic bounty hunters knew better than to keep looking for a galaxy from a dead being. There wasn't a thing left in the world to threaten Ford and his family.

The concept felt so foreign to him – he still couldn't quite believe it. He woke every hour, every night, in a pattern he'd established shortly after his first trip to the Nightmare Realm, and he still couldn't bring himself to quit it. No matter how many times Mabel reassured him he was on Earth, no matter how many times Stan punched him in the arm, no matter how many times Dipper whispered about him when he thought his uncle couldn't hear…

It still didn't feel real.

Ford honestly doubted it would ever sink in.

Mabel twitched beside him and curled in closer. The sound of her and Dipper breathing proved even more relaxing than the birds.

He still couldn't believe it.

But he could pretend.


End file.
